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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
July 1, 1876! Only one year more; and yet
how wearily the days come and go! How anxiously we watch
them, how eagerly we count them, as they glimmer in the
distance, and forget them as they fade! What joyous
anticipation, what confident expectation, what hope animates
each soul, each heart, each being of us! What encouragement
to study this longing, this impatience gives us, as if it
hastened the coming finale! And who felt it more than I? Who
could feel it more than I? To me it was to be not only an
end of study, of discipline, of obedience to the regulations
of the Academy, but even an end to isolation, to tacit
persecution, to melancholy, to suspense. It was to be the
grand realization of my hopes, the utter, the inevitable
defeat of the minions of pride, prejudice, caste. Nor would
such consummation of hopes affect me only, or those around
me. Nay, even I was but the point of "primitive
disturbance," whence emanates as if from a focus, from a new
origin, prayer, friendly and inimical, to be focused again
into realization on one side and discomfiture on the other.
My friends, my enemies, centre their hopes on me. I treat
them, one with earnest endeavor for realization, the other
with supremest indifference. They are deviated with varying
anxiety on either side, and hence my joy, my gratitude, when
I find, July 1, 1876, that I am a first-classman.
A first-classman! The beginning of realization, for had I
not distanced all the colored cadets before me? Indeed I
had, and that with the greater prospect of ultimate success
gave me double cause for rejoicing.
A first-classman! "There s something prophetic in it," for
behold
"The country begins to be agitated by the approaching
graduation of young Flipper, the colored West Point cadet
from Atlanta. If he succeeds in getting into the
aristocratic circles of the official army there will be a
commotion for a certainty. Flipper is destined to be
famous."
Such was the nature of the many editorials which appeared
about this time, summer of 76. The circumstance was unusual,
unexpected, for it had been predicted that only slaughter
awaited me at that very stage, because Smith had failed just
there, just where I had not.
"Henry Flipper, of Atlanta, enjoys the distinction of being
the only Negro cadet that the government is cramming with
food and knowledge at West Point. He stands forty-sixth in
the third class, which includes eighty-five cadets. A
correspondent of the New York Times says that, while all
concede Flipper s progress, yet it is not believed that he
will be allowed to graduate. No Negro has passed out of the
institution a graduate, and it is believed that Flipper will
be eventually slaughtered in one way or another. The rule
among the regulars is: No darkeys need apply."
Or this:
"Smith's dismissal leaves Henry Flipper the sole cadet of
color at West Point. Flipper s pathway will not be strewn
with roses, and we shall be surprised if the Radicals do not
compel him, within a year, to seek refuge from a sea of
troubles in his father s quiet shoe shop on Decatur Street."
Isn't it strange how some people strive to drag everything
into politics! A political reason is assigned to every
thing, and "every thing is politics."
The many editors who have written on the subject of the
colored cadets have, with few exceptions, followed the more
prejudiced and narrow minded critics who have attributed
every thing, ill treatment, etc., to a natural aversion for
the Negro, and to political reasons. They seem to think it
impossible for one to discharge a duty or to act with
justice in any thing where a Negro is concerned. Now this is
unchristian as well as hasty and undeserved. As I have said
elsewhere in my narrative, aside from the authorities being
de facto "officers and gentlemen," and therefore morally
bound to discharge faithfully every duty, they are under too
great a responsibility to permit them to act as some have
asserted for them, to compel me "to seek refuge from a sea
of troubles," or to cause me to "be eventually slaughtered
in one way or another." Who judges thus is not disposed to
judge fairly, but rather as suits some pet idea of his own,
to keep up prejudice and all its curses.
It would be more Christian, and therefore more just, I
apprehend, to consider both sides of the question, the
authorities and those under them. Other and better reasons
would be found for some things which have occurred, and
reasons which would not be based on falsehood, and which
would not tend to perpetuate the conflict of right and
prejudice. My own success will prove, I hope, not only that
I had sufficient ability to graduate which by the way none
have questioned but also that the authorities were not as
some have depicted them. This latter proof is important,
first, because it will remove that fear which has deterred
many from seeking, and even from accepting appointments when
offered, to which determent my isolation is largely due; and
second, because it will add another to the already long list
of evidences of the integrity of our national army.
To return to the last quotation. Immediately after the
dismissal of Smith, indeed upon the very day of that event,
it was rumored that I intended to resign. I learned of the
rumor from various sources, only one of which I need
mention.
I was on guard that day, and while off duty an officer high
in rank came to me and invited me to visit him at his
quarters next day. I did so, of course. His first words,
after greeting, etc., were to question the truth of the
rumor, and before hearing my reply, to beg me to relinquish
any such intention. He was kind enough to give me much
excellent advice, which I have followed most religiously. He
assured me that prejudice, if it did exist among my
instructors, would not prevent them from treating me justly
and impartially. I am proud to testify now to the truth of
his assurance. He further assured me that the officers of
the Academy and of the army, and especially the older ones,
desired to have me graduate, and that they would do all
within the legitimate exercise of their authority to promote
that end. This assurance has been made me by officers of
nearly every grade in the army, from the general down, and
has ever been carried out by them whenever a fit occasion
presented itself.
Surely this is not discouraging. Surely, too, it is not
causing me "to seek refuge from a sea of troubles." We need
only go back to the article quoted from the Era, and given
in Chapter III., to find an explanation for this conduct.
"We know that any young man, whether he be poor or black, or
both, may enter any first-class college in America and find
warm sympathetic friends, both among students and faculty,
if he but prove himself to be possessed of some good
qualities."
This is the keynote to the whole thing. One must not expect
to do as one pleases, whether that be right or wrong, or
right according to some fanatical theory, and
notwithstanding to be dealt with in a manner warranted only
by the strictest notion of right. We must force others to
treat us as we wish, by giving them such an example of
meekness and of good conduct as will at least shame them
into a like treatment of us. This is the safer and surer
method of revenge.
"Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst,
give him drink; for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of
fire on his head."
To proceed: I am undoubtedly a first-classman. None other
has enjoyed that eminence. There are many honors and
responsibilities incident to that position or rank.
First-classmen have authority at times over their fellow
cadets. How will it be when I come to have that authority?
Will that same coldness and distance be manifested as
hitherto? These are important questions. I shall be brought
necessarily into closer relations with the cadets than
before. How will they accept such relationship? The greatest
proof of their personal convictions will be manifested in
their conduct here. If they evade my authority, or are
stubborn or disobedient, then are their convictions
unfriendly indeed. But if kind, generous, willing to assist,
to advise, to obey, to respect myself as well as my office,
then are they, as I ever believed them to be, gentlemen in
all that recognizes no prejudice, no caste, nothing
inconsistent with manhood.
There are certain privileges accorded to first-classmen
which the other classes do not enjoy. The privates of the
first class do duty as officers of the guard, as company
officers at company and battalion drills, at light battery
drills, and at other drills and ceremonies. In all these
cases they have command of other cadets. These cadets are
subject to their orders and are liable to be reported indeed
such is required for disobedience, stubbornness, or for any
thing prejudicial to good order and good discipline.
In this fact is a reason the only one, I think, which will
in any manner account for the unpardonable reserve of many
of the cadets. To be subject to me, to my orders, was to
them an unbearable torture. As they looked forward to the
time when I should exercise command over them, they could
not help feeling the mortification which would be upon them.
I must modify my statement. They may be prejudiced, and yet
gentlemen, and if gentlemen they will not evade authority
even though vested in me.
We go into camp at West Point on the 17th of June, 76 for
ten days. During all that time I enjoy all the privileges of
first-classmen. Nothing is done to make it unpleasant or in
any way to discourage or dishearten me. We go to
Philadelphia. We visit the Centennial, and there not only is
the same kindness shown me, but I find a number of cadets
accost me whenever we meet, on the avenues and streets, on
the grounds and in the city. They ask questions, converse,
answer questions. This occurred several times at the
Southern Restaurant, as well as elsewhere. After the parade
on the 4th of July, every kindness was shown me. Those
cadets near me bought lemons, lemonade, etc, and shared with
me, and when, on another occasion, I was the purchaser, they
freely partook of my "good cheer." What conclusion shall I
draw from this? That they are unfriendly or prejudiced? I
fain would drop my pen and burn my manuscript if for even an
instant I thought it possible. And yet how shall I explain
away this bit of braggadocio in the words italicized in this
article from the Philadelphia Times?
"The Color Line. One of the first-classmen is Mr. Flipper,
of Georgia, a young colored man. We don't have any thing to
do with him off duty, said one of the cadets yesterday. We
don t even speak to him. Of course we have to eat with him,
and drill with him, and go on guard with him, but that ends
it. Outside of duty, we don t know him. Is he intelligent?
Yes; he stands high in his class, and I see no reason to
doubt that he will graduate next June. He has the Negro
features strongly developed, but in color he is rather
light. "
Easily enough, I think. In the first place the statement is
too broad, if made by a cadet, which I very much doubt.
There are some of that "we" who do know me outside of duty.
And if a cadet made the statement he must have been a plebe,
one unacquainted with my status in the corps, or one who,
strenuously avoiding me himself, supposed all others
likewise did so. The cadet was not a first-classman. There
is a want of information in his last answer which could not
have been shown by a first-classman.
Again, he says we "go on guard with him." Now that is
untrue, as I understand it. The word "with" would imply that
we were on guard in the same capacity, viz., as privates.
But first-classmen do no guard duty in that capacity, and
hence not being himself a first-classman he could not have
been on guard "with" me. If he had said "under him," his
statement would have been nearer the truth.
After a stay of ten days in Philadelphia, we return to West
Point, and still the same respect is shown me. There is but
little more of open recognition, if any, than before, and
yet that I am respected is shown in many ways. See, for
example, the latter part of chapter on "Treatment."
Again, during my first year I many times overheard myself
spoken of as "the nigger," "the moke," or "the thing." Now
openly, and when my presence was not known, I always hear
myself mentioned as Mr. Flipper. There are a few who use
both forms of address as best suits their convenience or
inclination at the time. But why is it? Why not "nigger," "moke,"
or "thing" as formerly? Is there, can there be any other
reason than that they respect me more now than then? I am
most unwilling to believe there could be.
We begin our regular routine of duties, etc. We have
practical military engineering, ordnance, artillery,
practical astronomy in field and permanent observatories,
telegraphy, and guard. We are detailed for these duties. Not
the least distinction is made. Not the slightest partiality
is shown. Always the same regard for my feelings, the same
respect for me! See the case of gabion in the chapter on
"Treatment."
At length, in my proper order, I am detailed for officer of
the guard. True, the cadets expressed some wonderment, but
why? Simply, and reasonably enough too, because I was the
first person of color that had ever commanded a guard at the
Military Academy of the United States. It is but a natural
curiosity. And how am I treated? Is my authority recognized?
Indeed it is. My sergeant not only volunteered to make out
the guard report for me, but also offered any assistance I
might want, aside from the discharge of his own duty as
sergeant of the guard. Again, a number of plebes were
confined in the guard tents for grossness and carelessness.
I took their names, the times of their imprisonment, and
obtained permission to release them. I was thanked for my
trouble. Again, a cadet s father wishes to see him. He is in
arrest. I get permission for him to visit his father at the
guard tents. I go to his tent and tell him, and start back
to my post of duty. He calls me back and thanks me. Must I
call that natural aversion for the Negro, or even prejudice?
Perhaps it is, but I cannot so comprehend it. It may have
that construction, but as long as the other is possible it
is generous to accept it. And again, I am ordered to report
a cadet. I do it. I am stigmatized, of course, by some of
the low ones (see that case under "Treatment"); but my
conduct, both in obeying the order and subsequently, is
approved by the better portion of the corps. The commandant
said to me: "Your duty was a plain one, and you discharged
it properly. You were entirely right in reporting Mr. ."
What is the conduct of this cadet himself afterwards? If
different at all from what it was before, it is, in my
presence at least, more cordial, more friendly, more kind.
Still there is no ill treatment, assuming of course that my
own conduct is proper, and not obtrusive or overbearing. And
so in a multitude of ways this fact is proved. I have
noticed many things, little things perhaps they were, but
still proofs, in the conduct of all the cadets which remove
all doubt from my mind. And yet with all my observation and
careful study of those around me, I have many times been
unable to decide what was the feeling of the cadets toward
me. Some have been one thing everywhere and at all times,
not unkind or ungenerous, nor even unwilling to hear me and
be with me, or near me, or on duty with me, or alone with
me. Some again, while not avoiding me in the presence of
others have nevertheless manifested their uneasy dislike of
my proximity. When alone with me they are kind, and all I
could wish them to be. Others have not only strenuously
avoided me when with their companions, but have even at
times shown a low disposition, a desire to wound my feelings
or to chill me with their coldness. But alone, behold they
know how to mimic gentlemen. The kind of treatment which I
was to receive, and have received at the hands of the
cadets, has been a matter of little moment to me. True, it
has at times been galling, but its severest effects have
been but temporary and have caused me no considerable
trouble or inconvenience. I have rigidly overlooked it all.
The officers, on the contrary, as officers and gentlemen,
have in a manner been bound to accord me precisely the Same
privileges and advantages, etc., which they granted the
other cadets, and they have ever done so.
I must confess my expectations in this last have been most
positively unfulfilled, and I am glad of it. The various
reports, rumors, and gossips have thus been proved not only
false but malicious, and that proof is of considerable
consequence. That they have not been unkind and disposed to
ill treat me may be readily inferred from the number of
demerits I have received, and the nature of the offences for
which those demerits were given. They have never taken it
upon themselves to watch me and report me for trifling
offences with a view of giving me a bad record in conduct,
and thereby securing my dismissal, for one hundred demerits
in six months means dismissal. They have ever acted
impartially, and, ignoring my color, have accorded me all
immunities and privileges enjoyed by other cadets, whether
they were allowed by regulations or were mere acts of
personal favor. Of the majority of the cadets I can speak
likewise, for they too have power to spy out and report.
As to treatment in the section room, where there were many
opportunities to do me injustice by giving me low marks for
all recitations, good or bad, for instance, they have
scrupulously maintained their honor, and have treated me
there with exact justice and impartiality. This is not a
matter of opinion. I can give direct and positive proof of
its truthfulness. In the chapter on "Studies," in the record
of marks that proof can be found, my marks per recitation,
and the average are good. By rank in section is meant the
order of my mark that is, whether best, next, the next, or
lowest. Are these marks not good? In law, for example, once
I received the eighth out of nine marks, then the fifth, the
first, second, third, first, first, and so on. Surely there
was nothing in them to show I was marked low either
purposely or otherwise.
My marks in the section for each week, month, and the number
of men in each section, afford the means of comparison
between the other members of the section and myself. And my
marks are not only evidence of the possession on my part of
some "good faculties," but also of the honor of my
instructors and fellow members of section.
What manner of treatment the cadets chose to manifest toward
me was then of course of no account. But what is of
importance, and great importance too, is how they will treat
me in the army, when we have all assumed the
responsibilities of manhood, coupled with those of a public
servant, an army officer. Of course the question cannot now
be answered. I feel nevertheless assured that the older
officers at least will not stoop to prejudice or caste, but
will accord me proper treatment and respect. Men of
responsibility are concerned, and it is not presumable that
they will disregard the requirements of their professions so
far as to ill treat even myself. There is none of the
recklessness of the student in their actions, and they
cannot but recognize me as having a just claim upon their
good will and honor.
The year wears away the last year it is too and I find
myself near graduation, with every prospect of success. And
from the beginning to the close my life has been one not of
trouble, persecution, or punishment, but one of isolation
only. True, to an unaccustomed nature such a life must have
had many anxieties and trials and displeasures, and,
although it was so with me, I have nothing more than that of
which to complain. And if such a life has had its unpleasant
features, it has also had its pleasant ones, of which not
the least, I think, was the constantly growing prospect of
ultimate triumph. Again, those who have watched my course
and have seen in its success the falsity of certain reports,
can not have been otherwise than overjoyed at it, at the,
though tardy, vindication of truth. I refer especially to
certain erroneous ideas which are or were extant concerning
the treatment of colored cadets, in which it is claimed that
color decides their fate. (See chapter on "Treatment.")
I hope my success has proved that not color of face, but
color of character alone can decide such a question. It is
character and nothing else that will merit a harsh treatment
from gentlemen, and of course it must be a bad character. If
a man is a man, un homme comme il faut, he need fear no ill
treatment from others of like caliber. Gentlemen avoid
persons not gentlemen. Resentment is not a characteristic of
gentlemen. A gentlemanly nature must shrink from it. There
may be in it a certain amount of what is vulgarly termed
pluck, and perhaps courage. But what of that? Everybody more
or less admires pluck. Everybody worships courage, if it be
of a high order, but who allows that pluck or even courage
is an excuse for passion or its consequences? The whites may
admire pluck in the Negro, as in other races, but they will
never admit unwarrantable obtrusiveness, or rudeness, or
grossness, or any other ungentlemanly trait, and no more in
the Negro than in others. This is quite just. A Negro would
not allow it even in another.
I did not intend to discuss social equality here, but as it
is not entirely foreign to my subject I may be pardoned a
word or so upon it.
Social equality, as I comprehend it, must be the natural,
and perhaps gradual, outgrowth of a similarity of instincts
and qualities in those between whom it exists. That is to
say, there can be no social equality between persons who
have nothing in common. A civilized being would not accept a
savage as his equal, his socius , his friend. It would be
repugnant to nature. A savage is a man, the image of his
Maker as much so as any being. He has all the same rights of
equality which any other has, but they are political rights
only. He who buried his one talent to preserve it was not
deemed worthy to associate with him who increased his five
to ten. So also in our particular case. There are different
orders or classes of men in every civilized community. The
classes are politically equal, equal in that they are free
men and citizens and have all the rights belonging to such
station. Among the several classes there can be no social
equality, for they have nothing socially in common, although
the members of each class in itself may have.
Now in these recent years there has been a great clamor for
rights. The clamor has reached West Point, and, if no bad
results have come from it materially, West Point has
nevertheless received a bad reputation, and I think an
undeserved one, as respects her treatment of colored cadets.
A right must depend on the capacity and end or aim of the
man. This capacity and end may, and ought to be, moral, and
not political only. Equal capacities and a like end must
give equal rights, and unequal capacities and unlike ends
unequal rights, morally, of course, for the political end of
all men is the same. And therefore, since a proper society
is a moral institution where a certain uniformity of views,
aims, purposes, properties, etc., is the object, there must
be also a uniformity or equality of rights, for otherwise
there would be no society, no social equality.
This, I apprehend, is precisely the state of affairs in our
own country. Among those who, claiming social equality,
claim it as a right, there exists the greatest possible
diversity of creeds, instincts, and of moral and mental
conditions, in which they are widely different from those
with whom they claim this equality. They can therefore have
no rights socially in common; or, in other words, the social
equality they claim is not a right, and ought not to and
cannot exist under present circumstances, and any law that
overreaches the moral reason to the contrary must be
admitted as unjust if not impolitic.
Henry Ossian Flipper, The Colored Cadet
at West Point, 1878